


Nightowls

by McFaneLy



Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: Dancer Cole (Ninjago), Dancing, Fluff and Humor, Light Angst, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24700462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McFaneLy/pseuds/McFaneLy
Summary: Even with all the time between the events of the Oni invasion, the multiple other enemies they’d all faced between then and present day, Cole still wasn’t fully okay. Plagued with the same nightmare, waking up in cold sweat, the sensation of falling following him to the waking world -- he needed a distraction, and what better place than the one Dance Studio in Ninjago that only opened in the dead of night?
Relationships: Chamille & Cole (Ninjago), Cole & Lloyd Garmadon
Comments: 32
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 01 - Just Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> New AU -- I told myself I was going to give Cole a break from angst, and it's hard to write something lighthearted but I hope you enjoy it. I need to let my favourite ninja have fun more often.

Cole was staring up, staring up into the blue sky, dotted with the odd cloud here and there. It was the middle of the day, really, but it wasn't all that warm. 

The Bounty hovered above him with it's engines blazing with fire and cutting through the air with incredible speed. He didn't dare look down from where he was; dangling over the side on a ladder, many, many rungs down. He could feel the rungs beneath his hands, feel the strength of the breeze running through his gi and nipping at his face. 

He needed to climb. Something told him that he needed to get moving, that whatever was below him was horrible. It made his chest tighten in fear even though he couldn't look at it. The area below him felt cold and oppressive, and the sensation was moving up his body. Starting at his feet, moving up his legs to his hips, nearing his chest. 

_Climb, you need to climb!_

Then he felt something give. It wasn't much, just a jerk to his hand and a small drop in altitude. A few centimetres, barely anything. 

Cole could still only look up, look at the ladder. 

His eyes zeroed in on the problem almost instantly, as if he knew it was there. A break in the ladder, a snapped rope, and the other one was fraying. Even with the sheer distance between him and the snapped rope, he could almost see the strands fraying before his eyes. 

He _needed_ to climb, so why wouldn't he move?

Why wouldn't he--

The rope gave. 

It was weird, the hand holding the ladder seemed to drop before the rest of his body. Though it didn't take long to follow. Sight and sound blended into a tornado of nothing, he was sure he heard someone shouting, screaming. Or maybe it was the roar of the Bounty's engines.

Cole could see what was below him now. A dark mass, a black cloud covering everything. Reaching up over the tops of the skyscrapers, blocking the ground from view. 

He was still racing towards it. There was nothing stopping his descent. 

Nothing to prevent him from hitting the ground. No one was coming for him, no one _could_ come for him. 

There was no getting out of this one. 

Cole let his eyes slip closed, but he knew how close he was to the ground. 

In three. 

Two. 

_One_. 

Cole jarred sharply awake in a darkened room, his room. In the monastery. With a desk pushed off to one side, just barely visible in the limited light that the moonlight arcing into his room provided. He had a pile of old clothes on the floor at the end of his bed, a scythe was mounted on the wall just off to his left, surrounded by photographs pinned up with thumbtacks of him and his friends. Happy moments, good times. 

He pulled in a shaking breath and covered his mouth with one hand, sitting up on the bed. He had to calm down, relax. It was just a nightmare, and it was over. He was awake, he was looking around his room and he was okay. That event, what had happened, it was in the past. It had come and gone, he was alive and he was okay. 

That didn't stop his throat from getting tight and a couple tears from slipping free. 

"Damn it." Cole mumbled as he climbed out of bed, using the hem of his pyjama shirt to wipe away the stray tears as he turned the room’s light on, allowing the welcome brightness to chase away the shadows. 

If only that worked for the inside of his head. 

Cole had been getting better. Yet his heart rate said otherwise. 

Nightmares were familiar territory, but the same one being so persistent? After so long?

He walked quietly around his room, keeping to the edges to provide himself a further distance to go as he wrestled to force his breathing to calm down. 

It had happened before. 

Following the Oni's defeat and their subsequent relaxation time, the days had been good. Not fighting any big enemy, using the Bell of Divinity as a hot tub, even the reduced training had been welcomed at the time. But the nights? The nights had been anything but relaxing. Everytime his head hit the pillow it was the same thing. The sensation of his stomach lurching, the ladder snapping and the sensation of weightlessness. Sometimes he was watching from the outside. Seeing himself fall down into the abyss. Other times it was purely feeling, sensation. Sound and no sight.

Fear, cold. Air rushing around him, stealing his breath from his lungs. Then darkness and nothing. 

Then, by some miracle, they'd lessened. With Aspheera and then the Prime Empire situation, Cole's thoughts had been elsewhere. 

Then they'd had more down time recently due to no present threats and the nightmares had quickly resurfaced. 

And his sleeping had suffered. But it wasn't like he could talk to anyone about it, everything had happened a while back. It wasn't important, and Cole was getting used to it. He would move through the situation on his own, no bother in bringing anyone else into it when all they'd do is get worried for no apparent reason. 

Cole blew out a heavy breath and glanced down at his hands. They were still shaking. 

"Come on, Cole. Get it together." He whispered, curling his hands into fists. "It's a dream, and it's over. It can't hurt you."

_But it did._

He needed more than a late night cup of tea, he needed air. The room was too stuffy, too enclosed. There was a clear pressure on his lungs. There must have been, with the effort it took to pull in breath. 

He needed air. 

He needed a distraction. 

He needed so much more than aimlessly walking through a darkened hallway to the kitchen to just distract himself for the next few hours before exhaustion finally took over and sleep came over him again. 

Cole wasn't exactly sure what possessed him to go on a walk, the night air was cool, even through the hoodie he'd pulled on and the loose jeans he was currently wearing over the top of his pyjama pants. It was quite the fashion statement, but it wasn't like he had thought about going far. Just to the bottom of the steps leading up to the monastery, then back up. That always helped. All the steps, the burning in his lungs when he finally reached the top, the ache in his legs. Or it had helped over the past few days of doing it. Maybe it was the knowledge that by the time he got back to the top, usually with the sky still a picture of darkness dotted with stars since it was still close to midnight, his thoughts would be clear-- even if he sometimes still ended up laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling and waiting for sleep to come to him. 

At the bottom of the steps, hands balled in his pockets and his hood pulled up over his head, Cole realised that this time, this one time, he needed more than a trek back up the mountain. 

Though for a second, he just stood where he was and stared up at the craggy cliff. Up to the clouds and above that, where his family were probably resting uninterrupted. Should he..? Would talking to them help, even after all this time? 

He didn't need to wake anyone up at that hour, though. Get through the night, and talk to them in the morning, that seemed like a plan. 

Only, he wasn't tired enough to go to bed. Cole wasn't calm enough. 

He hadn't meant to end up in Ninjago City in the dead hours of the morning. With the bright lights, the partially quiet streets with very few people around. Not that it was completely dead, though. The closer Cole got to the centre of the city, the more the place came to life. 

In reality, Ninjago City was a hub for nightlife. Bars were open, nightclubs blared out clashing music into the streets and groups of people were hanging around all in various stages of being drunk on what must have been around three or four hours of drinking and partying. It had never been Cole's thing, not that he really had the option to experience it. He wasn't a drinker, he wasn't one for crowds, but having the responsibility of being a ninja overshadowing any form of social life outside of his brothers and training, it didn't leave much room to make other friends and go out clubbing. 

Even if he had friends outside of his life as a Ninja, if he was being honest with himself, he still wouldn't go out drinking. 

Cole stopped in the middle of the street. It's not like there were cars anywhere close by. 

What was he doing? He was standing in the middle of the city in clothes that he'd pulled from the dirty laundry pile, with pyjamas underneath, and he was contemplating his lost teen-hood and opportunities he never had. 

Cole lightly brushed a crease out of the hoodie, only for it to spring back into place as soon as he dropped his hands away. He'd been out, he'd got more than enough air and it was time to head back home. 

Until he turned around, and a small group of people caught his eye. There were three of them, dressed fairly similarly. Black clothing, with splashes of bright neon embellishments to them. One, a female, wore multiple vibrant wristbands on one arm; along with a sleeveless black waistcoat that looked like it had been attacked with a paint can, and long violet hair that was equally as bright. Cole stared. 

It was paint. Muted purples and greens, dried onto the clothing. What had given it away was the fact that there were swirling painted patterns running muscular arms and ending with a hot pink hand-print on her shoulder. 

Her two friends, one male and one female were all of the same likeness. War masks of paint around their eyes and over their cheeks, sometimes edging onto their necks. Their hands were covered with it too, one with blue, another with green, the leading girl with purple. They were all heading to a doorway just to the side of one of the nightclubs. Cole stepped closer, just a little. Whilst the noise of the ground floor club was overpowering, grinding beats, shouting and what must have been popular tracks remixed to within an inch of their lives spilling out like a flood onto the streets. 

The doorway that the group entered into, it had its own music flowing out of it. It was a little quieter, but still much more interesting than anything else the street was providing. There was also the sound of clapping, of whooping and hollering, and when this group of three wall through the doorway and up a flight of stairs, the noise only grew in excitement of their arrival. 

Then the door swung to, muting the music a load more. Yet it let Cole see the name of the place. It was on a small plaque, black writing on silver metal. If he'd seen it during the day he wouldn't have batted an eye, odds on it would have been locked up at that time. 

But at night time? 

He took a couple steps forwards, though the lighting from the street made the sign easy to read. 

_Nightowls Dance Studio_

Cole paused, frowned, then with an internal what the hell he pushed the door open and hoped it wasn't a members only club. 

No one seemed to stop him as he reached the top floor of the building, no one even really seemed to bat an eye as he walked into the darkened room. It was laid out like a hall, wooden laminate flooring, mirrors covering an entire side of the room, a raised area just off to his left that must have been a stage. 

But the one thing that took Cole's breath away was the sheer amount of people in there. 

There was a big age range too, even at that time of night. The youngest, who was probably around fifteen, was dressed casually and running around the room having their own form of fun. There were people standing around, talking in groups, all forming a semi circle and leaving the exact center of the room empty. 

People were sat down too, water bottles by their sides, loose fitting clothing dotted in between people completely decked out in bright colours and out of this world outfits. Like the neon group from before, there were other clear cliques. One group, all wearing white and generally looking the same; another wearing what looked like a school uniform, blazers and ties. This was probably the weirdest set of people he'd ever laid his eyes on, and Cole's ninja gi had been likened to him running about in nightclothes.

What even was happening? 

"Hey, a newbie!" Someone shouted. Cole's attention peaked, bristled even, as he swung around and tried to find the source of the voice. 

A guy pushed through the crowd with a few nods, smiles, and a couple, "Excuse me, excuse me," 

Then he stopped in front of Cole, who was more than ready to turn around and walk out the very door he'd entered. 

Why had he even come inside? 

The guy gave a grin, and a knowing raise of an eyebrow. "You look confused. You lost or something?"

Cole cleared his throat, "I- uh, maybe? I'm not sure." He admitted slowly. Was he about to get thrown out? 

The response he gained was a loud laugh, even over the volume of the music pouring from industrial speakers on each corner of the room, it was clear. "Welcome to Nightowls." He swept his hand around the room, and a few people looked over and gave slight waves in their direction. They were just standing there. 

No one was doing much of anything, even with the music. 

This was a nightclub, wasn't it? 

"I don't know what that is." Cole said. 

The man smiled, then nodded, "I know. I know every face here and I've never seen yours. But new people are always welcome here, it's sort of a refuge,"

"For people who actually have a taste in good music and fun!" someone shouted from the crowd, followed by an uproar of intermittent cheers of agreement and general shouting. 

Cole frowned, his hands finding his way to his trouser pockets to stop him from picking at the sleeves of his hoodie. 

"Nightowls, only open in the small hours of the morning and sometimes on weekends." The man said, as if rattling off a speech he'd given a few times before, "A place to just have fun, do your own thing--" 

"The door said Dance Studio?" Cole asked, accidentally interrupting the spiel. 

Then the lights around them dimmed further, plunging the room into near darkness. If it wasn't for the lighting hanging from the ceiling, Cole wouldn't have been able to see anything.

Then the paint covering those three people earlier started to make sense. As his eyes scanned over the crowd, anything that was even barely bright in colour popped out. Black lights, washing the crowd with a deep purple and blue hue that made all colours roar to life. 

His mouth must have been wide open, because the man beside him patted him on his shoulder and steered him towards the crowd, towards the front of the group. Like a theatre-in-the-round, there was a large empty circle in the middle. Some of the surrounding people held up phone cameras, some were sat on the edge of the makeshift stage at the edge for more of a vantage point, and there was one person with a proper video camera rig knelt down on the floor. 

"The name's Tyler." the guy introduced, then nodded to the empty area. "I own this place," He stated, then, "Watch this."

A hush fell over the crowd as a group walked into the centre. 

Cole could see who they were easily, even though he couldn't see their faces. The splatter of paint was more than enough of a giveaway as to their identity. 

Then the music switched like a record scratch on a table, one track stopping right in the middle in favour of something brand new. It was loud, the beats thrummed through bone and the bass made Cole's teeth hum in his mouth from the vibrations through the floor. 

But he wasn't focusing on that. He was watching the group in front of him, going from playfully messing with each other and pushing each other around the clear area of the floor into a dance routine. Choreographed to perfection, and working like a well oiled machine, each member knew that they were doing. It was a merger between street and hip-hop, and the single guy in the group moved like a machine. It was like he wasn't even real, body moving so fluidly and carefully, each action done to perfection and with such calculation. 

Then the music sped up, as did the speed of the dance, and whenever something awesome happened, whenever some nigh incredible move took place the crowd exploded with cheers. 

This was what Nightowls was? Just a large group of people who were still up at the early hours of the morning showing off their talents. 

Having immense amounts of fun too, if the grins on the groups painted faces was any indication. 

The night continued on much to the same rhythm, group after group, soloists, anyone who wanted to just let go and have fun stepped into the circle. Some had practiced routines, other's who bet their talents on the luck of the draw and let someone else pick a song they had to dance to in front of over sixty people. Everyone stood back, everyone provided space, but they also went wild. Dancing along with them, hollering and clapping at everything, screaming in support when the dances ended and at the skills they'd just witnessed. 

Cole, at some point during the night, fell into the rhythm too, watching with awe and wide eyes. Everything fell into the background and he felt like this club, this place that he'd accidentally wandered into and been welcomed into, was exactly the place he needed. 

Especially when any thought of his nightmares, or his worries or anxieties had all but disappeared at the thrum of the music. 

Then by the time Cole got back to the monastery with his ears ringing and a wide grin on his face even though he'd only slept two hours that night; the sun had begun to peak over the horizon, but he'd never felt more awake. More alive. More focused and more… Free.


	2. Chapter 02 - Neon Purple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Nightowls quickly falling into Cole’s routine, the process of sneaking in and out of the monastery becoming easier and easier with each night. Yet, he would have at least assumed that if there was anyone he knew at the studio he would have already realised. Being a ninja, sometimes the obvious slipped past.

Nightowls quickly became routine. 

Initially, it was an easy thing to hide from the team. If the nights were hard, instead of laying awake in the monastery until the early hours of the morning, he could actually go and do something. 

Sure, maybe once or twice it included him walking in after a long night and having to avoid Zane, who was always a freakishly early riser; or even sneak out quietly through his bedroom window since he had been able to hear someone walking about in the kitchen and would otherwise have to pass them on his walk out. He was a ninja, but there were only so many exits to the monastery. 

The nightmares still came, to no one’s surprise. but now he had an escape. He had a place to go and enjoy himself in the company of like-minded people. He didn't have to bother anyone with his issues. 

He jarred awake at night, eyes wide and searching around his room, breathing coming in fast and mind racing to make sense of the nightmare. Of what he’d seen. It wasn’t like it ever differed from the night before. 

All Cole had to do was get up, and head to Nightowls. 

That was the advantage of clubs of any kind, they opened for the night crowd, people who wanted to go out and have fun. No matter if he was awake at twelve or at three, if he wanted to he could up and go knowing the studio would be open. 

A dance studio. He honestly didn't think he'd be stepping foot in one again. 

Sure, he'd run away from Marty Oppenheimers’, he hated the structure, the mandatory lessons that focused on things he had no interest in; and then there were the other students. Stuck up, entitled and thought they were better than everyone else. Even still, that in no way meant he disliked dance.

He loved dance.

He loved watching it, and he loved being surrounded by people who enjoyed it in the same way he did. No rules, no set instructions to follow, just whatever they wanted. 

The camaraderie, the support for everyone's ability and level was amazing, and Cole was fast to fall into it all. 

Even when he noticed a familiar face in the crowd. He'd arrived at the studio early that night, and for once he hadn't been driven there because of a nightmare. He was just there. 

And the familiar face was someone who he'd seen perform multiple times over. 

"Chamille?" 

"I was wondering how long it would be until you recognised me. Did the hair not give it away?" 

"I- uh--."

"The paint threw you off, didn't it?" She raised an eyebrow and hopped down from where she'd situated herself on the raised stage. It was so obvious now, so obviously her that Cole didn't even realise how oblivious he'd been over the past couple weeks. 

It had been a few years, almost, since they'd seen each other. Last time they'd both been pitted against each other at the Tournament of Elements, then they'd stood side-by-side in the Corridor of Elders. 

Then they hadn't seen each other for ages. Cole realised he hadn't seen the other Elemental Masters for a while, at least not at a time when the fate of Ninjago was at risk. No, right now, they were just two normal people. Two old friends, if even that? There was no guillotine over their heads. It was just a normal day, they weren't elemental masters in that moment. They were regular civilians. 

Chamille grinned and pushed his shoulder, "Didn't think I'd see you here. Or anyone for that matter, but you? My first guess would be the blue one? Jay?" she questioned. 

It had definitely been a long time. 

Cole just ran a hand through his hair and watched as she approached. How should he be feeling at that moment, the fact that he'd spent the past few weeks sneaking out of the monastery as to not be caught by anyone to keep this place a secret, but the entire time there was someone he knew right under his nose? 

He was stumped, and more so internally cataloguing how he could have not noticed that the one person with bright purple hair was the same person with bright purple hair he hadn't seen in ages. 

Granted, Chamille wasn't exactly the same. She was the same height, sure, but her hair was styled differently, swept over on one side and just a bit shorter than her shoulders; her purple theme had been switched out for a general black outfit, a shirt with a canvas jacket layered over the top. This time, the jacket had sleeves and wasn't cut up and frayed along sliced edges like someone had taken a craft knife to it. 

Though he couldn't expect people to be colour coordinated. Sure, Cole favoured his colours of black and orange the same way Kai liked wearing red, didn't mean they always had to be a walking advertisement for colour coded ninja. 

"You're the leader of that neon group?" He questioned after a moment, and the words sounded dumb coming from his mouth. Of course she was. 

"'That neon group' is called Shifters." she raised an eyebrow. 

Cole paused, "Really..?" 

Chamille stared at him for a second, her eyes analytical and assessing, before she smirked and shook her head. "No, that's a weird name. We don't really go by anything. We just sorta, I don't know, do."

Cole couldn't help the light laugh that escaped his throat, and the fact that conversation seemed easier now, less awkward. There wasn't the overbearing knowledge that neither of them had gone out their way to meet up again, which extended to his team back at the monastery. Cole realised, suddenly, that he needed to check up on a fair few past comrades. Check in, see how they were, actually talk to them when the world wasn't ending. 

"So, what brings you here at this time in the morning?" She hopped back up onto the drags, dangling her legs over the side. 

Cole followed suit, though crossed his legs beneath himself. "The usual."

"That being?" Chamille prompted. 

"Can't sleep."

She made a quiet noise, like _ah_ in understanding. 

Cole let out a breath, but decided to brush it off. "How've you been, I haven't seen you since the Tournament."

"Good, pretty awesome. Training and stuff, Neuro and I--" 

"Wait, you see Neuro?" The one guy with greying hair even at his age, would that be powers, or the stress of them? He didn't know. 

"Yeah." She smiled, "And Tox. We meet up, hang out, you know, what friends do. Sometimes they come here but unlike," she gestured between the two of them, "Present company, they like to sleep."

Cole huffed, then crossed his arms, going on the defensive, "I like sleep too."

"Definitely. It's past midnight, the party is only just starting," She looked over to the studio door as a large group began to file in, then switched her gaze promptly to Cole. "And you 'like sleep too'." the last couple words came out gruffer, and far too masculine for her. 

It was only once she'd stood up and was making her way over to the growing crowd did Cole realise what she'd done.

"Don't use my own words against me!" He called, Chamille just laughed, "And don't use my voice too, it's creepy!"


	3. Chapter 03 - Lack of Sleep and Reluctant Ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With suspicions about Cole’s well-being becoming apparent during an awkward conversation with Kai, to Chamille trying to convince him to do more than just stand around and watch other dancers at the studio; Cole finds has a lot to think about.

Cole was usually good at pacing himself. 

He was good at knowing his limits, knowing when he was getting too tired or too worn down. 

He knew if he was pushing training too hard, or if he was doing too much during the day and needed a rest. It hadn't really occurred to him that having a busy day and then spending most of the night out at a dance studio would catch up on him, but it did. 

He'd slept solidly through a full night for once, something which had been happening more and more lately. No interruptions, no jarring awake at a god-awful time in the morning with heart palpitations and a cold sweat. For once when his eyes opened and were met with a beam of sunlight drifting directly through his window, he was wide awake. No drifting between sleep, no 'five more minutes'. Cole was up and ready to go with his day. 

Only, when he got dressed and headed out for training, fastening his gi a little tighter around his waist as he left his room, he passed by Kai heading the opposite way to the training area. 

He received a raised eyebrow from the fire ninja when he said, "Morning, who else is up?" 

"Try everyone." Kai replied, stopping in his walk and leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway. "You're the last one up, which is probably a first."

Cole's eyes widened a fraction, "Jay got up before me?"

"Yeah, like, two hours ago."

"I- what?" His confusion shifted into more of a frown, which only served to draw out a slight laugh from the other. 

"Dude, it's past noon. You slept through the whole morning."

"I--" Cole faltered, then looked around the hallway. There was a clock on the wall, he knew there was. There was an alarm clock in his room too, had he really not checked it? Had he just woken up, gone through the motions and not looked at the time? 

How had he not checked it? 

Cole eventually located the wall clock. 

13:43.

"My alarm--" 

"Went off." 

Cole turned to Kai with a look of confusion, "Then why--?" 

"We were all training and it was ringing for like, ten minutes. So we got Zane to go into your room and turn it off."

"And you didn't wake me?" 

Kai held his hands up in mock surrender, but there was something measured about his expression, his eyes searching over Cole's face as if he was seeing more than he was deciding to let on. 

Or maybe he was willing to talk about it, "We thought you'd need the sleep. We didn't wake you because we know you haven't been sleeping."

There it was. Clear as day. So apparently he hadn't been very good at hiding his gradually declining amount of sleep, but that didn't mean he needed to bother anyone with the situation. He did sleep, he had slept. He'd managed to sleep through the night, along with half the following day. No sleep deprivation there, he'd slept enough for a week. 

Kai seemed to pick up on his thoughts. Or at least where his mind was going. 

“Listen, if you're not getting enough sleep for some reason--" 

"I'm fine, Kai." Cole interrupted after a moment and ran a hand through his hair. Though his argument soon fell apart as a yawn surfaced, jaw cracking and long, it even made his eyes water slightly. 

Then when he refocused, Kai was just watching with his arms crossed over his chest as if his point had been proven, "You're fine? Right. Sure."

Cole glared, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Don't you have someone else to interrogate? I'm fine, okay? Am I not allowed to be tired?" 

"It's not that. You're allowed to be tired, it's just," Kai faltered briefly and moved his hands around in front of him, as if he was trying to pick the correct words out of thin air. It was ironic, really. Cole wasn't open about his possible issues, and Kai wasn't the one to usually breach the topic. But there they were, standing on opposing sides of the hallway, trying to figure their way around a conversation that neither of them were really prepared for. "Just know that whatever's going on, you can talk to anyone here--" 

"Kai," 

"And I get it, it's not easy to talk about things--" 

"Kai," Cole sighed. 

"But whenever you want to--" 

Cole placed a hand onto Kai's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. "Kai, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong, just a few late nights."

Even still, he didn't look convinced, though the red ninja took that moment of the conversation as a small and offered out, nodding slowly, "Right, late nights." He didn't sound reassured. "Okay."

There was a short nod, and Cole released his hold. "I'm going to go and train, want to join me?" 

Kai huffed and shook his head, "No way. I already got my ass handed to me by Zane this morning. You can train yourself."

Cole smirked, "I'm not surprised."

There was a scoff, "Wow, dirt-clod, tell me what you really think."

* * *

Cole had laid himself down on the stage at Nightowls, and the sky had only just begun to darken outside. This time, he'd snuck away just after dinner had ended. It wasn't hard to weasel his way out of the general games night that happened every night, consisting of Jay hogging the console and trying to beat whatever high scores Cole had set a few days prior. He was definitely getting close, but he hadn't succeeded just yet. 

All Cole had to do was tell Jay that he had no hope of ever beating his high scores, since he hadn't been able to and it had already been days. That resulted in a very focused Jay and everyone else sitting in the living room egging him on and trying to get him to prove Cole's words wrong. 

Then a brief, "Yeah, I'm turning in for the night. Going to try and get a few more hours in," And an absent and acknowledged: "Uh huh, g'night." later and Cole was pushing his bedroom door to, climbing out his window and making his now regular trip into the city. 

Chamille had apparently had the same idea of arriving early, since other than the two of them and Tyler who had been nice enough to let them both in before official opening times, the place was empty and for once, lit up normally. 

Cole could see the sheet amount of wires snaking over the ceiling from where he laid, all connecting to different lighting systems attached to a metal frame. It was professionally done, and completely inconspicuous when the lights were at their general low setting and the beating music made it hard to focus on anything else. 

Chamille nudged his foot to get his attention and Cole lifted his head to see a paintbrush held in his face. 

He tilted his head, but took the brush into his hand, "What do you expect me to do with this?"

There was a deadpan stare in return, "I don't know, play it like a flute." She said, then gestured down to an assortment of different pots of paint beside her, each one with a vibrant pigment inside, "Help me get ready. I'm dancing tonight and I gotta look good." She explained as if it was obvious, and it wasn't like Cole could say no. 

So he shifted over to the edge of the stage, picked up a pot of pink paint and started painting careful swirls over Chamille's left forearm. He must have gotten her approval, because she didn't tell him to stop. 

"Don't you usually do this before you come here?" Cole questioned after a few minutes of focused silence. 

Chamille gave a short nod, her gaze set on painting the tips of her fingers a deep purple, "Normally. But I just decided to get ready here," She looked at where he was sitting, and smiled at his look of concentration. "You have the same idea too?" 

"What, getting ready? I don't really get ready, I just come here in whatever I put on in the morning."

There was a sigh, "No, like performing. You actually going to dance tonight, or just stand in the crowd?" 

Cole paused, then shook his head. Sure, he liked watching all the performances. All the differing styles, they shifted daily and he honestly never knew what to expect. There had been ballet a few days ago, and street dance, and when some fairly bass heavy music had come on the studio had delved into a fray of jumping up and down and headbanging for a good few minutes. He never knew what to expect, but whenever he left after a night he was always grinning widely. 

But him, actually dancing? That was a whole other thing, a whole other thing that would literally never happen in a million years. 

Sure, maybe he'd thought about it. 

How couldn't he? Watching all these different people with different talents, of course it got him thinking about what he was able to do. He saw all these routines, all these moves and he could stand there and tell just by looking if he could do the same thing or not, and the answer was always a solid yes. Yes, he could do body isolation; yes, he could do ballroom, he could do street and hip-hop and pointe. 

His dad was a singer and dancer, but Cole was the one who'd been accepted into Marty Oppenheimers. Not because of his dad's previous history there, but because he'd gone and auditioned, he's aced the entry exam and he'd been good enough to get into a private school on his own. 

But that was all in the past, it was history and it had been years since he'd properly done anything to do with dance; or done anything even remotely related to dancing. The idea of trying again, even in front of strangers and like minded people, it made his stomach turn just thinking about it. 

Cole shook his head lightly, "I don't dance." 

Chamille didn't seem to take that as an answer, and she set her paintbrush into a paint pot; then she turned fully in his direction so Cole had to shift his brush away too. "Come on," She rolled her eyes in exasperation, "you don't come here because you can't dance. You're fooling no one, man, I see you. A dancer can see another dancer a mile off."

He watched her for a moment, twiddling the brush between his fingers. "I just don't dance, Cham."

"Any reason why?" 

Cole sat back a little, and decided on the general excuse of, "Because I can't."

She laughed as if the statement was a joke in its own right, before giving a light punch to his shoulder. A punch that left small neon marks from the wet paint still coating her fingers, Cole didn't make a move to try and rub it off. 

"Sure." She nodded, "Sure, right, you can't dance."

"That's what I said."

She hummed quietly, lifting a freshly opened pot of orange paint and stuck her fingers into it, then after a moment of brushing the paint over the palm of her hand, she brought it up to her face and left a solid vibrant hand print over her left cheek. 

Cole just watched. 

She repeated the process, but this time using rudimentary finger-painting to mark down rough spiral designs onto what had been a once clean t-shirt. 

Eventually, after a minute of quiet painting, Cole took it as the end of the conversation and got back to his own artwork. A line of Ninjagoan moving down Chamille's bicep, starting at her shoulder and stretching to her elbow. It read as 'light', which he thought was ironic. 

"Just saying though," she began. "If you did happen to dance,"

Cole groaned in exasperation, "Cham, I said--" 

"I know, I know, but if you _did_ ," She said, using gestures to enunciate the words, as if the actions would cause the current impossible to become possible. As if by her being enigmatic about the situation, it might come true. "If you did, I know everyone here would enjoy it."

He was taken aback by that turn of statement, his mouth moving around unspoken words before he let out a heavy breath, "Doesn't change the fact that I won't dance."

The loud laugh that followed made Cole jar, and a paint line go in completely the wrong direction. He stared up at his friend, mainly in confusion at what had caused the outburst. 

She was just staring back in what looked like victory, "So you can dance!" 

"... What?" 

"You said you 'won't dance'."

Cole nodded, his brows creasing, "Because I won't."

"Won't and can't are two different things."

Understanding descended, "Cham," He started, his free hand moving to his hair as he shifted the strands around lightly, "You know what I mean."

Honestly, she probably knew exactly what he meant, if the look she proceeded to give him was anything to go by. A raised eyebrow, then a quiet sigh escaped her nose after a short second. Her smile was still there, just a little smaller. 

"Yeah, I do." She agreed, then in the next second she reached forwards and wiped a hand directly over Cole's face. 

He didn't realise what she'd done initially, before he noticed a spec of colour clinging to his eyelashes and when he wiped his sleeve the sleeve of his hoodie, and the once black material came back with a smudged mix of bright orange and hot pink. 

His mouth dropped open, and he picked up his own paintbrush to arm himself, "I know you didn't do that." 

Chamille smirked, but he could see one of her hands skirting towards the opened purple paint. "Do what?" she questioned with feigned innocence. 

Cole kept his attention shifting between her hand and her face, "You know what you did."

In the next moment, they both moved at the same time. Cole bent the loaded paintbrush bristles back with his thumb in an attempt to spray her with it, and Chamille suddenly dove forwards with a hand freshly covered with paint. 

The next few seconds were sheer chaos, and neither party had really come out the winner. Cole was sitting, though nearly on his back and heaving with building laughter. He could feel the fresh paint on him, and he could see it too. Coloured streaks haphazardly strewn down the front of his jacket, the sheer amount already dripping onto his jeans. Then he could feel it running down his face too, enough that he had to close one eye. It was in his hair too. 

Chamille was a little better off, but she hadn't fully evaded his wrath. She had an upturned pot of neon orange on the front of her shirt, and the design they'd both spent the past half an hour painting onto her arms and face was now dotted and tarnished with a random affray of splattered marks. So Cole's shot had hit home. 

They both had a large distance between them now, but that didn't stop them from sharing a glance, and then proceeding to buckle over again. Full shoulder laughs, eyes closed. Cole was curled over his chest, a wide grin on his face with no noise coming out; but he was heaving for breath around near tears. Chamille's laugh echoed, and it just made the situation worse. It was loud, nasally, and generally one that would draw looks from any passing groups were they in a public place. It only served to make Cole laugh harder, until he had to force himself to stop in favour of taking in air. 

Even then, catching each other's eye, a small smile, and they were close to hysterics again.

They properly started to calm down when they realised that they'd gotten paint everywhere, and began to clean before they were caught in the act of causing the mess in the first place. 

They still giggled, though. Shoulders shaking briefly, a laugh disguised as a cough.

Cole was screwing the lids on the paints when the first few dancers walked through the doors, and the lights dimmed down. The music would start up soon, and the night would begin. 

Chamille stood up and stretched her back, wiping her hand down the dried paint on her arms as if she could remove the splatter. Which made Cole realise that he was probably covered in dried paint too. 

"I guess I'm going for a different style today." She said. Then she paused, as if she'd had a sudden thought. Looking between the paint on her arms, and where Cole was sitting, she said, "You could do this."

Cole just watched bewilderment, "Do what?" 

"This!" She pointed to the paint, "Or something like this. You know, what me and my team do." 

Chamille was talking like her point was obvious, but Cole was definitely not following, "Uh…" 

"You could hide behind paint."

Yep, totally lost, "What?" 

"It's what we did the first time we danced as a group. We fully covered ourselves in paint, colours everywhere, I had a kabuki mask painted on my face." She grinned, "We did it to hide who we were."

The point to her previously incandescent rambling made sense. 

"Cham," 

"Hiding who you are, wearing a mask, it's just like you being a ninja."

Cole shook his head, "People know I'm a Ninja."

"But they didn't always. Having a barrier; something to hide behind makes it easier to do your thing. You're just a Ninja, no one knows who you are." She continued. He knew she was talking about him being a ninja, but he also knew the other meaning behind what she was saying. "You just do your thing, do what you enjoy, and then at the end of the day you go back to being Cole."

"We’re talking about me being a ninja, right?" He asked, and Chamille just rolled her eyes. 

Then she fixed him with a knowing look. "Yes. Definitely. You being a ninja. That's it."

She smiled, then jumped off the stage. 

Cole watched her go, blending into the growing crowd better than anyone should be able to when covered in neon paint. 

Hiding behind being a ninja, behind a mask. A secret identity. It made things easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Fane,


	4. Chapter 04 - I'm Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Chamille’s idea running none-stop through his head, Cole found himself more and more sold on the idea of donning a mask again, but for a completely different reason than being a ninja. Now, it all comes to whether Cole can make himself do something he hadn’t done seriously in years.

As the night drew to a close, and the sun had already passed the horizon and was steadily rising into the sky, Cole still hadn't made his way back to the monastery. The night like always, had been hectic and fun. Chamille had grabbed onto the hood of his jacket a few times to try and drag him into the stage area, and Cole had successfully nearly choked himself by refusing to move anywhere that wasn't that little bit further away from the centre of the crowd. But he had been thinking. **  
**

To say he was hung up on what Chamille had said was an overstatement, though he was giving the idea a bit of thought. That, just like when he was a Ninja running around in a mask all those many years back when their faces weren't on the front of newspapers and their names weren't attributed to being the saviours of the city multiple times over, having his identity under wraps had provided clear advantages.

The main one, before he'd told his dad the truth, the secret identity had allowed him to keep up the lie that he was still attending Marty Oppenheimers' even when he'd run away, whilst actively being a ninja and helping people. It was nice because he could go from a Ninja that people could look up to, to a random guy on the street that no one batted an eyelid at. 

The fact that people knew who he was and what he did now? Cole didn't mind. He knew that he was good at what he did, he knew that now that people knew him, that they had a face to put the Elemental Master of Earth; he could stop feeling like he needed to keep that part of his life a secret and just live it up to the fullest. He was a Ninja, he was happy for people to know that. 

But the idea of wearing a mask, to put distance between himself as a person and something he was totally not thinking about doing, was a good idea. 

So much so that when it had passed six in the morning, Cole had successfully stayed awake for twenty-four hours, and he was still up and about a couple hours later. Why the single arts and crafts store in Ninjago City had later opening hours than every other store on the high street, he had no idea. Though it did give him time to up his coffee intake to a total of three cups from three different cafés, along with commandeering a public restroom to wash as much neon paint off his face and his clothes as he could in order to stop himself from looking like a walking advert for a traffic cone. All before the store opened. 

It came off his skin and out his hair easy enough, but his hoodie was definitely a lost cause. He'd have to have faith that a wash would fix it, but he didn't have high hopes. 

So with coffee in hand, and an extremely vibrant jacket tied around his waist, Cole was the first customer into the crafts store and he had some form of idea as to what he needed. Cardboard, a plastic mask base, some thicker and stronger elastic and an assortment of paints. Specifically, oranges, blacks and whites.

The more he looked around, the more that caught his eye and the more ideas he got about what he was going to do. So maybe he bought a few extra things, like some paint that apparently glowed in the dark? Or an assortment of his own neon paint since he had to make up for purposely spilling a load of it over Chamille somehow?

Cole left the store with a full bag slung over his shoulder and set off back to the monastery. Now all he had to do was come up with an excuse for why he was walking into the monastery nearing midday after he'd clearly been shopping, and why no one had seen him leave that morning - because he hadn't even been there. 

He had time, though. The trek up the stairs back to home was enough to think up a multitude of excuses, the only hindrance to his plan was the absolute mess that was his hoodie and jeans, decorated artfully with paint. 

The plan was to get to his room, change, then make an appearance. 

Only sometimes, as good as Cole was at strategic thinking and plans, there were always hiccups. That being on his way past the living room after sneaking past Kai massacring a training dummy in the courtyard, he hadn't taken into account that anyone would be sitting down and having a rest. The sound of the game console should have clued him in, but Cole had already stepped past the open doorway without much thought. 

"Cole, you're back!" came a loud voice, and internal cursing quickly followed. 

He situated himself with his head poking into the living room, his painted clothes carefully hidden behind the wall so they weren't on show. 

Sat on the couch, the light from the TV reflecting in their eyes and the music paused along with the game, was Lloyd and Jay. Jay beaming with a wide smile and a crooked eyebrow, he'd probably just beaten a particularly hard level. 

"Where were you?" Lloyd questioned after a moment, his tone far too measured and concerned for someone his age; and in the space of a second Cole realised that if they'd found out he wasn't there that morning, that they might have worried. 

He hadn't even thought of that. 

Cole let out a small breath and gave a smile, "Headed to the city pretty early on, walked there. I didn't mean to worry you guys or anything."

Jay interjected, "Worried, us? Nope, you just missed train-- oomf."

Lloyd's hand came to a stop over Jay's mouth, and the lightning ninja gained a glare that could strike fear into the lesser man, "When you didn't come out I tried your door, it was sorta open." He said, then winced a little, "I didn't go in or anything, but I could see you weren't in there."

The tone was careful and casual, and Cole almost felt bad that he was going to lie. Or at least, he wasn't going to be fully honest. Why lie if he didn't necessarily have to, anyway? "Sorry, kiddo. I should have told you what I was doing before I left."

_Even though I've never even been here since last night._

Cole held up his bag in one hand, as physical proof that he had been somewhere, and he had bought something, but that still didn't seem to sway the calculating expression on Lloyd's face. 

Though whatever tension there was, if any, was broken when Lloyd's face shifted into one of disgust and promptly pulled his hand away from a cackling Jay's mouth. 

"Ew, gross! You licked my hand?" He questioned, his voice moving up in pitch at the end. 

That just made Jay laugh harder. 

Cole took that moment as the excuse he needed to leave the situation. Only when he was half way to his room did Jay's head poke out the lounge. 

"You know you have paint in your hair?" He called, questioning. 

Cole's hand quickly went up to the back of his head, to be met with the coarse feeling of dried paint that was in fact there, and had been missed during his effort to clean it all off earlier that morning. He cringed, but shot Jay a slight smile, "Got pranked by some kids walking back. I thought they'd missed." Cole grinned, then shrugged. "I'll be in my room, showering."

"Dude, too much info!" 

"Wait until you realise what I do with my clothes when I shower." 

Then it was Lloyd's turn to give a holler of disgust. 

Cole laughed at their revulsion, and slipped into his room without much fanfare. 

Twenty minutes later, and a fresh change of clothes, he was sitting in the center of his room with a towel wrapped around his damp hair and his morning purchases neatly arranged on the floor in front of him. 

He knew what he wanted to do, he already had a rough design sketched out on a rogue piece of paper; his pencil was held between his teeth and he was staring at the paints. 

The dawning realisation of what he was planning to do finally hit home. It wasn't as if he'd told anyone about his idea, it was currently just himself and his thoughts, and Cole was already second guessing himself. 

"This is a stupid idea." He mumbled to himself, his voice quiet in the already present silence of his room. Usually he had music playing on his phone or something to the like, but now all he was doing was thinking. Thinking that what he was going to do- no, not what he was going to do, what he was debating on doing- and just realising how much he hadn't even taken into account. 

Cole didn't dance for anyone. Sure, maybe he'd do a general jig if there was a good song on the radio, but who didn't? Yet dancing, proper dancing, he hadn't done it for years; and not for anyone but himself. 

Why was he even contemplating going against the grain? Why now? What made that moment different, what made that time the right time to consider getting back into dancing? Was it the fact that he now saw these amazingly talented people every time he went to Nightowls? The way they just so easily stepped into the centre of attention, directly into everyone's line of sight and not get bothered by the many pairs of eyes staring back at them? That they could blank it all out in favour of just performing and doing what they loved? 

Cole let out a heavy breath, before he lifted the scrap piece of paper with the mask sketch up in front of him. He had a good idea what he wanted to do, a design that would be pretty ironic, a personal victory in a way. One that only he would be aware of, really. He had everything he needed. It was all out in front of him. 

Cole set the paper down, took hold of the towel in his hair and started rubbing the last of the dampness away. He stood, folding the towel over the chair at his desk before he left for training. 

He needed to stave off exhaustion first, he needed to get his blood pumping and muscles warmed. He needed to wake himself up as much as he could after such an extensively long day, then he'd think logically about what he was going to do when he wasn't feeling as tired. 

Maybe that night Cole had gone to sleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow, at the late time of seven in the afternoon. Maybe he even slept solidly through the night and woke up on time for the following days training, not a nightmare in sight. 

Maybe his mask was already under construction, pencil markings already sketched out on the mask base, the idea already blooming into fruition. 

Maybe he would dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 05 - I Don't Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, in order to get something done, a bit of force is needed. With Cole’s plan and Chamille already far too excited at the notion of it, it wasn’t like he could back out. No matter how nervous he was.

Cole spent a good few days in the monastery, waking up early for training, going to sleep like normal, rinse and repeat. All because he realised that lack of sleep and staying up for near enough two days straight probably wasn't the most healthiest habit to get into. Since spending a whole day awake, to just spend most of the night up too wasn’t the best idea.

That, and all the missed training, even if it had only been a couple times before; he didn't want to get on anyone's bad side. Everyone else pulled themselves out of bed as the sun rose in the distance and Cole not doing it just didn't seem fair. 

Falling behind on training regimes wasn't high upon his own list either, so Nightowls took a back-burner. 

Sort of. 

To say that Cole was putting off going back wasn't entirely true, but the mask that now laid finished and currently unused under his bed was an indicator that he could go back at any time, all he had to do was sneak out instead of sleeping. 

But he was still thinking. Thinking that if he showed up with that mask in hand, Chamille would be onto him in a second and there would be no turning back on his harebrained scheme of what he was planning to do. Though, if he showed up just as himself, nothing else?

He honestly would feel like he was letting himself down. 

How hard could it be? It wasn't like he hadn't danced in front of people before. Sure, winning the Fang-Blade cup had been a while back but he'd sort of danced then; amongst the fighting. 

Nerves, butterflies in his stomach, they were nothing new. They always happened, and if they weren't there then Cole probably would have been concerned. It didn't help that they fluttered every time he even thought about the Dance Studio. 

It was a stupid fear, something that was keeping him away from an activity that he did enjoy. He liked walking into the studio and seeing the crowd of people, he loved the feeling of music flowing through him as if the beat was a living and breathing entity that just… Took over. Cole had missed it. With the nights that passed by, sleeping like a regular person did, he missed it even more. 

Which was how he found himself climbing out his window that night, mask tied to his belt, and walking into Nightowls as the sky had officially started to darken to be hit with a wall of music and a sense of overall calm. 

Then he was promptly tackled in the side by a blur of neon and barely kept his feet beneath him. 

Cole did drag in a deep breath and bring a hand to his side, "Chamille! What the hell?" 

She grinned, brushing a piece of stray hair out from her face as she straightened up, "I'd thought you'd bailed, you haven't been here in like a week!" 

"Four days."

"Four whole days." Chamille amended, but she still had a wide smile on her face. 

He looked around the studio. Whilst music was playing, the lights were still on and there were a few people standing about. Some were casually dancing, some were talking, but it would probably be around an hour before things got underway. 

Cole was planning on sitting down, relaxing, trying to make an attempt not to get psyched up over something he hadn't even settled on doing. 

At least until he picked up on an undignified squeal, and the next second his mask was being pulled away from his waist and into the hands of Chamille who quickly turned it over in her grip. 

He didn't need to ask her what she was thinking, the way her eyes widened and her gaze flicked between the orange mask and Cole made it clear she knew that was going through his head. 

"Dude, this is so cool!" she said after an agonising minute of looking over the design, "Is this--" 

"Yep, yeah. It is." Cole quickly snatched it back, "Don't start jumping to conclusions. I'm probably not going to wear it," He looked around the room, at the steadily increasing amount of people; how could a mask even make dancing any easier when at the end of the day, he was still himself? 

Chamille, though, she was staring with her arms crossed and what was probably the most analytical expression Cole had ever seen on her face, as she seemed to now look over what he was wearing. 

"I mean, you can't go out dressed like that." she said simply. 

Cole balked, "I-- what?" 

She gestured to effectively all of him, "Like that. What, did you throw on your laundry basket or something?"

"... Is this insult a Ninja day?" He questioned, picking at a loose thread on his jacket before raising an eyebrow, "These are fresh on--" 

"They need more pizzazz."

"Pizzazz?"

Chamille nodded, and rocked on her toes as if she was excited about something, and Cole for the life of him couldn't figure it out. 

Until he felt a hand on his sleeve, and had no choice but to let himself be pulled through the crowd until he made it to the unused staging at the side of the room. 

Suddenly, Cole regretted bringing his mask that day. 

Since Chamille had clearly been in the middle of getting ready herself, open pots of neon paint dotted about the place and a few used brushes sitting on tissues to protect the surface below. 

"No way." He mumbled, shaking his head. The only problem was, there was a small smile on his lips, "Nope. I'm not doing that. I'm just going to head back home--"

There was a deep sigh, "No, come on, Cole! You're probably pretty nervous, I know I was the first time--" 

"I'm starting to realise I'm pretty terrified." He admitted, before clearing his throat lightly. What was he actually doing? He didn't even have a plan. This had all stemmed from a spur of the moment idea. 

"Cham," 

"Cole." She raised an eyebrow, "I know you want to."

"Yeah, but--" 

"And I know if you leave here without putting that mask on, you'll feel worse."

She was talking from experience, she must have been, because her words were solidly hitting home. 

"I haven't danced in years."

"And that'll change tonight. So sit." Chamille pushed him towards the edge of the stage, where he dutifully hopped up onto it and sat down, staring down at the colours. 

Chamille sat down next to him, and passed over a pot of neon purple. "You've got more of an artist's eye than I do, you paint a design on my jacket, I'll do your arms."

"Does that mean you're going to have a nicer design than I am?" Cole questioned. 

He gained a shove in response, and a quick swipe of a paintbrush over his nose, "Hey!" 

"Just focus on painting, Earth-For-Brains, you'll feel better in no time."

He scoffed, rolled his eyes, and picked up a brush. Half-way between Chamille accidentally spilling some neon orange paint down his jeans, and him swapping purple paint to pink, Cole had to admit he was feeling calmer. 

At least until the lights dimmed down fully, and Chamille screwed the lid onto her paint pot and set it down. The black light that shone down, making her teeth glow a bright blue when she smiled, and she was smiling. 

Cole could only feel nausea rolling in his stomach. 

He decided to look down at his clothes, focus on something else. Chamille had favoured yellow, red and orange colours, most likely to coordinate to the colour scheme his mask had going on. There were careful swirls, along with some clearly abstract and unfinished shapes that were dotted about the place. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing when they painted, other than just filling up the space. But the design worked, it was all over the place but that just seemed to flow nicely. 

His arms were covered in a glowing sleeve design, and his hands hadn't been spared either. Splashes of paint dotting the skin, a calculated mess. 

It seemed that he had her physical stamp of approval. 

Cole pushed out a heavy breath. 

Chamille watched him carefully, "You know, I know I said earlier that you're going to dance today. But if you don't feel up for it then that's all good, you can just walk around looking epic." 

He couldn't help but smile at that idea. Though he shuffled off the side of the stage and nodded to the crowd. "No one's stepped into the circle yet." Cole said, and he couldn't believe the words were leaving his mouth, but he soldiered on. "Free reign," he shrugged and nodded to the floor, "Do you, you know--?" 

Chamille got up immediately, jumping from the raised platform down to his side, already ahead of Cole#s request, "I was thinking, a random song, set the bar high for everyone else tonight?” She first pinched the mask off his belt again and tossed it back into his hands. Cole pulled it on, getting it situated comfortably on the bridge of his nose.

Then she gripped his wrist and pulled him towards the centre of the crowd. 

"Ty doesn't have any set groups dancing tonight so it's just whoever feels like it."

They broke through the wall of people, into the empty centre of the group, and Cole could feel his heart racing in his chest. 

He couldn't help but look around, shifting between accidentally catching people's eyes and then looking away just as fast. 

What was he doing, what was he doing? 

_What am I doing?_ He wondered silently, before he felt a light tap to his hand. Chamille had thankfully released him from her hold, and she must have signalled the DJ for some music because, like what sometimes happens between performances, a song that was part-way finished came to an abrupt halt in favour of starting something new. 

Cole came to expect it, it was one of the weirdly charming things about the studio. It was organised and slightly chaotic at the same time. 

There was another tap, and his gaze finally focused on Chamille's face. There was a smile there, and somehow her hair had grown into an even more wild mess under the lighting. In fact, it had definitely gotten a lot messier. Shorter, and choppier, as if she'd taken scissors to it herself that morning. Only, it had been long and up in a tight ponytail a few minutes ago. 

"Your hair-?" Cole questioned, his voice raised slightly over the building music. 

Chamille just gave a playful wink and rolled her eyes, "Master of Form, genius." She took a slight step back, giving herself more room to move. 

He mimicked the movement, before blowing a heavy breath from his nose. 

He was there, he'd gotten through the hard part without realising. People were already looking, already intrigued, or simply just staring with amusement. Dancing wasn't all that hard with experience. 

All Cole had to do was get a feel for the music. 

So he stopped, let his eyes slip closed, and listened. Listened for the beat, the tempo, the style which the song warranted. It was loud, slightly fast, probably a remix of something that was overplayed on the radio. 

Cole sighed quietly, felt the drone set deep into his body. 

The first time he danced, the first proper time in years, it was a freestyle with Chamille. It was fast and technical, and Cole loved every second of it. Any notion of the crowd around him, of people watching, it all just faded into the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins.


	6. Chapter 06 - What's Next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing, as Cole now remembered, was addicting in the best way possible. One performance was all it took and now he couldn’t get it out of his head. The exhilaration, the sheer feeling of elation and for once being able to just let loose a long hidden part of himself, even if no one knew about it. Yet, the shift in emotion definitely didn’t go amiss amongst his brothers.

There were times when Cole questioned his life choices, and dancing with Chamille; not caring what anyone thought of him- odds on, some of the people there didn't even know him. He was probably just a guy who showed up one day and eventually decided he wanted to do more than just stand at the sidelines and watch. 

There was no downside to his decision, all he could think was, _why did I ever stop doing this?_

But Cole knew why. He remembered the regimented and planned schedule that Marty Oppenheimers' focused on. All the classes that he didn't enjoy, all his classmates; all the teachers even; former performers, singers, actors, who were all well aware they taught at one of the most renowned private schools in Ninjago. They all loved what they did, that was clear, but it just wasn't… 

It wasn't _Cole_. 

He liked structure and order as much as the next person, but being graded on a dance discipline he didn't like, or taking written exams on the history of Performing Arts in Ninjago. 

Then there was the fact that he only went to that school because it was the same thing his dad had done when he was his age. 

Whereas his dad had graduated with flying colours and gone on to have a successful career, Cole had run away. 

That wasn't to say he hadn't been successful. He'd helped save Ninjago multiple times, averting disaster after disaster, and if anything his time as a Ninja had only served to strengthen the honestly dwindling relationship he'd had with his father for so many years. 

His dad was proud of his choices, Cole was proud of his life; but the universe always had a weird way of coming full circle sometimes. 

What he was doing, in that moment, nothing was comparable to it. 

So why did he ever stop doing something he genuinely loved? 

The second time he danced was later that night, though it wasn't nearly as out there as the first performance. 

He was standing just at the edge of the crowd, partially watching the dancers in the middle, but also trying the steps for himself. They fell into place easily, and he'd never felt more at ease just dancing. He was in a place where it was expected and enjoyed, and even though it had taken Cole over a month and many sleepless nights, he had the stark realisation that doing something he loved doing, surrounded by people with the same interests, what was there to be embarrassed or nervous about? 

The only issue was that, as soon as he stepped back into the monastery everything went back under wraps. Though, that didn't stop the wide smile that he felt plastered on his face for the entirety of the following day. He'd even gotten back in time for training, walking into his room just a little before six in the morning, Cole had subjected himself to the quickest and coldest shower he could to try and wake himself up and it still wasn't enough to stem the still present hum of adrenaline and excitement under his skin.

Even losing a spar against Lloyd didn't dampen his mood, he just kicked himself up off the floor, dusted himself off, retrieved his scythe and shouted, "Nice work, kiddo," He smiled, "Didn't see that hit coming."

The area lapsed into silence, the clanging of weapons stopping.

"Did you… Really just say that?" Lloyd questioned, one eyebrow arching up, before he settled on an idea, "You never let your opponent win, why now?" 

Cole paused, leaning on the pole of his scythe, the end jammed in between two stones, "Let you win? Dude, no, you won fair and square. I wasn't paying attention."

"Did you just admit you lost?" Kai questioned, he must have been listening in. 

"Yes? You say that like I'm a sore loser. That's Jay." He nodded to the blue ninja. 

"Hey!" 

"Anyway," Cole shrugged, "Nice job, greenbean, I'm going to go change."

He turned and started to make his way back inside. He could feel sweat making his gi stick to his chest, and the way his hair was dampened down; it didn't help that it was a warm day too. Yet, training had to be done, even if the heat was sticky and uncomfortable. Nothing another shower couldn't fix. 

Only, Zane was in his path, "Who are you and what have you done with Cole?" 

There was a sense of humour in those circuits then. 

"Oh, ha ha." He rolled his eyes, "Funny. I lost, so what? It's training, that happens." Cole moved his eyes over his icey friend, and crossed his arms over his chest, "This feels like an interrogation." And it did. With everything stopping. The birds were still tweeting their morning song, the sun was still rising, Jay had gone back to messing with his nunchucks if the woosh noise of them spinning through the air was anything to go off. 

But with Zane on one side, and Lloyd and Kai on the other, he felt almost penned in. 

"You're happy." Zane observed. 

Cole frowned in an oxymoronic reaction to the statement, "Am I not allowed to be happy?"

"Of course you are, it's just--" 

"We know you haven't been." Lloyd added after a second, stepping just a fraction closer. 

_Oh._

So maybe he hadn't been as subtle as he could be with his ongoing issue with nighttime and what it brought, but that was getting better.

He was getting better. 

At least, he felt better? 

"Cole, you've been looking exhausted recently and--" 

"Guys," Cole held his hand up loosely, as if waving off the incoming conversation before it even started. "I'm fine. I'm all good. Golden even."

Lloyd ran a hand through his hair, halting just off to his side "Cole--" 

"Listen, I'm having a good day. A really good day." Cole admitted after a moment. "Like, a 'nothing can dampen my mood' type of day. Those are rare. So, I'm going to go shower," He pointed in the general direction of his room, "And I'm going to enjoy this day. I'm fine, literally."

What did it say about him, if nobody seemed convinced at his words?

He sighed, then brushed past Zane with a small smile and a wave which for him, halted the conversation, "Right, you guys can keep being pessimistic, I'm out."

He could feel the eyes on the back of his head until he turned a corner, but he left it at that. Cole had other things to focus on, anyway. 

Specifically, when he was going to dance next. 

It was weird, that the night before he'd spent the entire trip into Ninjago city experiencing a minor freak out over what he had been planning to do. He'd talked himself out of it, and then back into it multiple times, and in the end he hadn't been given much of an option due to an extremely excited Chamille. So Cole definitely had her to thank for everything, because now he couldn't get the experience out of his head. 

It was incredible, it had been so much fun and he could see why he saw the same people perform almost every time he went to Nightowls. Dancing was addicting in the best possible way. 

Sure, he could freestyle whenever he wanted, it wasn't hard. Give him a good song or a specific style and he would make do. Yet, there was just something different about a choreographed routine. All the hours that went into it, the focus. The passion and dedication. If freestyle was like a sheer burst of serotonin, then what if he actually did a routine? 

As Cole was stepping out of the shower after his second wash of that morning, this time at least having less paint to make sure he scrubbed off, he was already set on his idea. 

Then it just came to the logistics of everything. 

Mainly, how he was going to choreograph and practice a routine in a place that was never empty unless there was a Ninjago ending crisis going on, in which case there would be no time for anything else other than saving the world again. 

However, Cole wasn't a quitter if he had his mind solidly set to an idea, so the process quickly went from a case of 'how?', to ‘how was he going to keep the inevitable process hidden?’ 

Though that wasn't so hard once he thought about it either. 

It was honestly amazing how far a good set of headphones and a chair propped up against the door could go. 

That isn't to say he didn't have any close calls. With the chosen music blaring in his ears, his eyes closed and his body moving on its own accord to map out the song and movements in his mind, it wasn't like he was paying attention to the door of his room. The only aspect that clued him in to someone knocking progressively louder with each thump was the fact that the chair nearly topped from its already slightly precarious position under the door knob. 

Cole took a mad dive, catching it before it clattered to the ground and swinging the door open in one smooth movement. 

He pulled his headphones off his head to sit down on his neck, the track still pumping from the speakers. 

Kai was standing on the other side, dressed in his pyjamas with his toothbrush hanging out one side of his mouth. He must have stopped in the middle of brushing his teeth since his words came out slightly muffled around the foam. 

"It's eleven at night, stop making so much noise." The fire ninja ground out, his brow furrowed, "What're you even doing anyway?" Kai reached out and knocked a finger against the headphones and in retaliation, Cole batted his hand away. "Nothing. Aren't you meant to be asleep already, isn't it past your bedtime?" He shot back, a smirk growing on his lips. 

That set Kai on the defensive, and quickly swayed away the conversation. "What, no! But I would be sleeping if you weren't stomping around the place. Go. To. Sleep!" Each word was punctuated carefully, and Cole just let out a breath and reached up to turn the music off, then raised an eyebrow as if to say _better?_

That seemed to do the trick. 

Kai gave a half-hearted thumbs up, and trudged back off down the hallway. 

Cole did turn in for bed after that though, it wasn't as if he needed to rush the process. Plus, a tired Kai was slightly more annoying than well-rested Kai. Anything to avoid the former. Though he did practice the next night, and the next. After-dinner-game-time as Jay put it, was fun, yet there were only so many high scores that Cole could continue to break before he eventually got bored of the same five titles. 

He used that time to practice, and in between either sleeping or sneaking out to Nightowls, dancing quickly went from something he'd never thought he'd do much of again, to nearly a nightly thing. 

So when his routine was finished and polished after over a week of practice, Cole had had to force himself to go slow during dinner that night, and it was a conscious effort to stop himself from tapping his feet nervously on the floor. Whatever worries everyone had about his honestly improving sleep schedule, Cole wasn't ready to give them another reason to corner him and get him to talk about his feelings. 

He was all for being open, but some things he could deal with himself. 

Then he killed some time in his room, his headphones on full volume. Cole wasn't dancing, just humming along quietly. He knew the routine, he knew that he knew it. This was the time to cool off and relax, to try and tame the flurry of butterflies in his chest. 

Though even as he was passing through the hallways of the monastery, a cloth bag over one shoulder holding his mask and an assortment of other things for the night, the nerves were just growing. The cool air of impending night and a drooping sun helped slightly, dragging in a deep breath and letting his lungs expand for a few seconds, Cole descended the monastery steps. 

Only, he hadn't been as sly as he'd liked, since he wasn't the only one who left the monastery that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this fic. Feel free to leave a comment or better yet, shoot me a message on my Tumblr, whilst I do read every comment I get, I am much more active on that blue hell-site!


	7. Chapter 07 - Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes all you can do it practice, and hope for the best. Sometimes the effort pays off, and it’s not like Cole is one to back down from anything.

Cole used his shoulder to push open the door into Nightowls' studio, hefting his bag up a bit more onto his shoulder. As usual, the place was getting busier, the lights were dim and the music flowing; and he'd gone from light nerves to feeling like he was close to throwing up in the space of a second. There was the heavy set feeling to his stomach, and the fact that he had been rotating the routine through his head on a loop for the past hour between the monastery and the studio hadn’t seemed to make much of a difference.

He felt like his clothes were picked bare too, even though they still looked fine. Grey sweater, sleeves rolled up past his elbows, an old and faded pair of jeans that he could just throw either into the wash or the rubbish once he got back to the monastery in the morning. Though he had thought to bring a spare change of clothes that day, since it would make the process easier. Use the restroom, clean off, change before he left; it seemed like a better plan than sneaking back into the monastery in neon painted clothes. Since every time he'd told Chamille he was planning on dancing she'd basically covered multiple sets of clothes with colours to the point where if Cole was going to dance, the clothes he wore had to be on the old side. 

"Cole!" came a loud bellow, and he looked up to see Tyler weaving his way through the crowd, "I've got the song all set up, the DJ has an order so--" 

"Not the first dance?" He questioned. 

"Nope."

Cole blew out a heavy breath and swallowed hard, nodding. He could work with that, he was perfectly fine not going first. That meant he could watch other people, see what they did. Or maybe he wouldn't? Since there was the possibility that he'd worry more that what, he was doing wasn't up to scratch. He could dance. He could. Yet, all the other people there, with their talent and far more experience, he couldn’t help but question his capability. 

Here he was thinking doing a load of freestyle would prepare him for a routine. He didn't feel prepared at all. 

Cole felt a nudge to his shoulder, and Tyler's face came into view. "Hey, you'll do great. You've been dancing with Chamille and on your own for like, two weeks. You're good."

"Just good?" He said, and he couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped his mouth. He quickly brought a hand up to try and trap the sound, but it was too late. 

Tyler just smirked, and patted his shoulder. "You're great, and you're the fifth song. I've told Chamille."

"You _what_?" 

Tyler gave Cole two finger guns, and turned back to the crowd, though he was looking over his shoulder as he moved away, "She's at the stage, glowing neon, you can't miss her."

" _You told Chamille_?" 

"Stage, go."

"Ty--" 

"Stage." The word was drawn out, and with that he retreated into the crowd, whether to go and do something or avoid Cole's possible wrath, neither were sure. 

Though he relented, and went to track down where Chamille was. With the black lighting on, she wasn't hard to miss. 

Each spilt dot of paint on the stage glowed brightly, and Cole could see why Tyler sometimes got her to clean up the mess. Overall, there was less paint in the pot and on her than there was surrounding where she was sitting. 

He forced out a breath, rummaged through his bag and tossed a small pot over to where Chamille was sitting, "Catch!"

Her eyes shot up in a second and it was lucky the lights made its contents glow, otherwise Cole would have lost track of it himself. Thankfully she caught it. 

And stared at it rolling the gift in her hand, "You got me paint?" she questioned, a small smile on her face, though there was more of an excitable tone held in her voice. 

"Yeah, uh, remember that paint battle we had?" Cole questioned, though he knew she remembered that, it hadn't been long ago and there were still flecks of neon over the flooring that they hadn't been able to scratch off. 

"I remember it well." She grinned. 

"That's because I spilt paint over you."

Chamille raised an eyebrow. 

"And I felt bad about wasting it. Also, with all the paint I've been using over the past couple weeks, it's only fair."

"Could have got me food."

Cole laughed sharply at that, any motion of nervousness shifting away for a second, "Wow. Way to say thank you." Chamille was good at that, and it was weird that they'd gone from meeting once and being aware of the other's existence, to actual friends. A good weird, but weird. 

He sat himself down on the stage and laid back, closing his eyes and feeling the hum of the music and footfall move through the floor beneath him. 

"So," Chamille started, and Cole moved his eyes over to her when he listened to her tone. Sharp, and high, like she was holding something in. 

"Dancing?" 

Cole groaned and covered his eyes with one arm, "Don't start."

However it was a bit late for that, because there was now a wide smile on her face. Cole just sighed more. Now there were nerves, and slowly building embarrassment. 

"I'm having a minor freak out here, what if it's not good?" He questioned. 

Chamille regarded him for a second, absently unscrewing the lid off the orange paint and dipping the brush in. "You go through this process every single time you think of dancing, and then afterwards you're all like 'wow, that was amazing! I'm totally doing that again, are you doing that again? I am!' and then you probably perform like, another two times that night."

Cole glared at her when he picked up on the fact that she was using his voice, and that even though it was an exact and perfect imitation, the inflections and blunt sarcasm seemed to fall wrong in his tone. One of the many interesting things about the elemental master. 

When he felt the cold brush of pigment over his cheek, he flinched away quickly with a: "Hey!" 

"Get used to it, dirt-brain, you know the pre-dance schedule." She smirked, "You can't go out dressed like you are."

"I mean, I could."

"Whatever. You made the mask glow, as soon as you did that you had no other choice but to add more brightness to your look."

Cole rolled his eyes and still stayed laid back, though he made sure to stay still as Chamille continued with her art. Then when she moved down to the sleeve of his jumper, he sat up and took his own paintbrush in hand. He picked the colour red this time, and painted a thick and unbroken line all the way down Chamille's already colourful arm. 

She gaped at him, her eyes wide for a moment, though all the while she was covering her hand in neon orange. Cole knew where this was going. He shifted back along the floor as soon as she lunged forwards, and thankfully she missed her assumed intended target of his face, catching herself on his shoulder and leaving a smeared hand-print there. 

"I swear, if you two make another mess, you'll be buying new staging." 

Cole and Chamille both turned sharply to find Tyler stood at floor level, his arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

Chamille cleared her throat, but Cole could see the shift in the corners of her mouth. 

She was going to laugh. 

So he nodded quickly, giving a thumbs up, "Got it. No mess, promise." 

"Good. Cole, three more songs."

Cole faltered at that.

_Only three?_

He hadn't even been listening to the music, not properly. He hadn't even noticed any of the other dancing. 

"Right, okay. Three songs, got it." 

"You'll be fine." with that, he walked off. 

Chamille simply gave an interested hum and picked up her brush. "What, that's like, ten minutes?" 

"Don't make me think about it." Cole mumbled. 

"I won't, I won't. But stop moving so much, you know I haven't got a steady hand."

"Understatement."

She had the decency to fake a shocked expression, before getting back to work.

Ten minutes always moved too fast when he wasn't looking forward to what came afterwards, but for some reason Cole still managed to feel every second that ticked by. Chamille had the right idea with sitting silent, it's something they established a week back, it let Cole think about what he was planning on doing, it gave him time to get his mind around something that he inevitably would end up doing. 

Chamille knew he was going to dance, Cole knew it too. He just had to understand that. 

He'd started counting through the songs, anything to focus on but the buzzing nerves. 

Then all too soon the third song came to an end and Cole could feel his heart racing in his chest, maybe it was legitimately a heart attack? If he had any powers like Kai, he was sure he would have been smoking or even on fire at that moment, in the literal and not the good sense. Yet, he didn't, and the ground didn't shake and the floor below him didn't crack and move, but it felt like it should have since _this is so much worse than a freestyle, what was I thinking? Why did I say I'd do this? I'm not ready._

"Cole?" Chamille's questioning tone broke through his stupor. "Take in a deep breath, you'll love it. I know you will, and after, when you're freaking out and I'm absolutely amazed by your talent, I'll let you paint anything on the back of my jacket. You know--" 

"Because you can't see it?" Cole mumbled with a bare smile, "And I could do anything and you just gotta hope it's not rude?"

"Bingo."

He cleared his throat, pushed out a heavy breath even if it didn't release the pressure in his lungs, and got up. Then in the same breath, Cole forced himself just to move forwards. The song would start whether he was inside the circle or not, and honestly he would damn himself if he was late to his own performance. He knew that, he knew he'd beat himself up over it if he didn't do it, so the only conclusion he could draw from that was that he needed to bite the bullet. 

Cutting through the crowd was child's play now, it was so easy. He knew when to sidestep, the fastest way to the centre, who he needed to step around and over if they had sat themselves down on the floor. It was an art form, honed over weeks of trial and error and a couple spilt drinks and trodden on toes. 

Brushing easily past near enough walls of people in a whole variety of dress sense, not that he didn't stand out as much as one guy he'd noticed who was fashionably dressed in varying shades of green. The neon colours, the tightness of his mask as he pulled it over his head and tried to make his hair sit in some semblance of neatness; not that it would still be that way in a few minutes. Even still, he wasn’t the most over the top person in the room by a long shot.

Cole was at home in the studios' crowd as he was being stood in the centre of the large empty circle that was always present in the middle of the room. It gave everyone a great view, along with providing an interesting place to perform in. It forced the dancer to think about all angles, every aspect of their performance. 

He had. He'd obsessed over it daily for over a week. He'd practiced as much as he could, finessed and perfected each move if he was rusty with it, or simply out of significant practice; which he was. 

He'd done all he could, and now all he had to do was show what he'd worked towards. 

The lighting was already up and running, and Cole could see the paint splatters on his sleeves and hands glowing vigorously. Whether people could actually see him, or only get the glare from the neon, he didn't know. As the music started up, he found he didn't care either. This was all familiar, the loud beat in his head, the way his body was already responding to it, feeling the hum of energy. Even with his eyes closed, he knew that attention was on him. And… 

He didn't care. 

Cole blew out a breath, forced his shoulders to relax, and gave in to the music. 

Everything became a blur, autopilot and muscle memory kicking in. He could feel his blood roaring, he could _hear_ it in his ears. The song was in the background, everything was, and Cole was hyper-focused. What came next, where his hands needed to be, how his feet needed to be situated, it was all so easy. 

So easy. Why did he even put so much time and energy into worrying about something that came so innately to him? 

Dancing, it was a learned talent, but it ran in his family. In his blood. It was something that he'd tried so hard to distance himself from for so long for no reason other than an argument with his dad that didn't even hold any weight anymore. They'd both moved past it, past the fact that Cole had felt as though his life was being fashioned around his dad's, whether knowingly or not; they'd talked it out years ago. Yet, Cole had stoll avoided dancing like the plague and for what? What was there to avoid when all there was, was himself and music? 

The ability to express himself through movement, to be precise or as silly as he wanted, why did he stop? 

Why did he ever stop _this_? 

That was his main thought as the music pulsed on, then drew to a close, and the silence that the end provided was soon drowned out by claps and shouting. Like every performance by absolutely anyone, always received with admiration and pleasant surprise, Cole could speak from experience with everything he'd watched since his time at the studio. Everything always seemed to amaze, no matter if it was a repeated style, the same group dancing multiple times in a row, the reaction was always the same. A torrent of sound that blurred the lines between one song and the next, and as Cole found himself moving from the centre of the circle and into the surrounding crowd. 

Where he received playful shakes to his shoulders and slaps on the back, from some faces he recognised in the crowd, but also from some he didn't know just yet. Still, it was all welcomed. Pulling in breath, adrenaline rushing through him at what he'd just done, all his work coming to fruition in the best way, he was living in the moment. So with all the congratulating and cheering, Cole knew he had a wide smile on his face. He could feel the way his cheeks were already, starting to hurt. 

How could he have been so nervous if this was the outcome for something that couldn't have gone better? 

Cole could have laughed at himself. He nearly did until his attention was drawn away by a shouted, "You looked awesome, man, better than last time!" 

Cole turned with a grin and a raised eyebrow, even though it couldn't be seen behind the mask. "Thanks!" He called back into the crowd, he was pretty sure he knew who’d said it, "You're going next, right? Or are you going to back out again?" 

There was a resounding "Ooo!" and jeers from the nearby crowd of people, but he just waved it off as playful banter. He wasn't cocky, or full of himself, but he could appreciate a good joke. 

He progressed gradually to the outskirts of the crowd, the din of the music lessening just a fraction, though he was still getting constant high-fives and compliments from people, thumbs up, and one mildly frustrating ruffle of his hair from an unknown assailant. Though Cole rolled his eyes, pulled his mask off as he exited the blockade of never-ending people, intent on going to get a drink from a vending machine with whatever loose pocket change he could find when;

"I knew something was going on."

Cole felt the blood rush from his face at the sound of that voice, and any and all buzz and adrenaline petered away in the mere second it took for him to bolt around to face the source. 

Coming face to face with Lloyd, with his hood pulled up and blond hair falling into his eyes, looking slightly awkward and out of place in the room, maybe since he had his hands shoved into his pockets? Though his expression was alert and relaxed for someone who would probably much rather be in bed. 

Cole would have preferred to be in bed too, in that moment, or even a shallow grave. Anything but this, anything else. 

There was the minor hope that he could have only just walked through the doors by happenstance and accident, though his mind vetoed that idea in a second. 

_Green_ , that one guy from before--

Lloyd had followed him, and had been there the entire time.


	8. Chapter 08 - Behind the Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deception (noun), an act or statement which misguides or hides the truth.

The pulse of music was quickly becoming deafening. Or maybe that was the pounding feeling Cole could feel in his chest? He was a deer in headlights, and he must have looked the part too. Eyes wide, face frozen as he went through a range of emotions just to find whichever one fitted with this situation. It was something he hadn't even thought about.

It hadn't even crossed his mind for a sheer second, even with all the times he'd snuck out, all the close calls and half-baked excuses he'd had to come up with on the fly for being up really early in the morning, or sleeping in really late. 

Sure, saying he was tired and needed the sleep was the truth, but there was background. Cole was keeping so much from everyone and the idea of getting caught out and having to actually explain it all… Well, whether he'd avoided thinking about it, or it had just not occurred to him, he was now caught out and floundering. 

"... Lloyd. Hey..?" He spluttered out uselessly, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He was nervous. He didn't know what to do. There was the oppressive feeling of awkwardness in his own skin as he took stock of himself. Lloyd had been there, and he'd _seen_. "I-- Uh, you know, it's not really what it looks like, you know? I mean, it's late," Cole trailed off after a second, one foot tapping heavily against the floor. Any sound was drowned out by the next song beginning. 

Lloyd was still standing there, right in front of him, his eyes slowly flicking over Cole for a second before they moved to glance over the Earth Master's shoulder, presumably to the new dancer that was now performing. 

He just looked calm, and extremely interested in what was going on. The guy may have looked a bit odd, dancer wasn't anyone first thought when looking at Lloyd, mainly because the left feet that the kid possessed was probably the worst case Cole had ever seen. He was fairly lanky, bobbing slightly off beat to the music, but Cole wasn't going to correct him. He was too busy freaking out. 

"Woah, those guys are good!" Lloyd said after a second, with a wide grin as he moved closer to the open area. There was a pair in the centre, both seamlessly blending a clear ballet style with swing. The song was upbeat too, and the guys were definitely brimming with talent. 

On any other night, Cole could just stand there and watch. 

"Lloyd," He stared, stepping just a bit more in front of him. 

The Green Ninja looked over to him after a second, though Cole knew he didn't really have the kid's attention. 

So he went silent. He stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest tightly, tried to force the tenseness out of his shoulders to no clear avail and waited. Waited the agonising few minutes until the dancing stopped. This was worse than everything he'd been going through before his performance. He'd go through it again, if he had a choice. He wouldn't even think twice, if it meant Lloyd not having been there. 

So as the dancers took their bows and exited the floor, Cole had one hand carding through his hair and the other gripping the fabric of his jumper just for something to do to keep them busy. 

Then Lloyd turned back around, and Cole didn't even know where to begin. 

Or he did. 

"You can't tell anyone." He said quickly. 

Lloyd's reaction was a slight frown, "What?" 

"You can't tell the guys. I know that you saw me dance, and you can't tell them."

"Cole--"

Cole tugged on his hair lightly, then blew a heavy breath out of his nose. He needed to take a moment, to just breathe and think. 

Why didn't Lloyd seem as bothered by this as he was? 

"You were great." He said plainly, 

"I-- what." 

"You were awesome." There was a slight laugh to Lloyd's voice, but it wasn't anything mocking. It was light, brief, as if he was impressed. "Like, I knew you could dance. You dance in the kitchen all the time."

"No, I don't--"

"You do." Lloyd stated. "You really do."

At that, Lloyd started edging from the crowd, pausing for a second to make sure Cole was following before continuing on his way. They ended up standing at the mirrored wall of the studio. 

He spared a glance at himself. At all the neon paint and dishevelled hair, and an expression that looked torn between excitement of getting his routine done, to a physical depiction of the amalgamation of feelings he was experiencing due to Lloyd also being there. 

Lloyd who was awake at what was now probably three in the morning, looking as alert as if it was the middle of the day and not pitch black outside. Lloyd who'd said that what he'd done was awesome and then the conversation had dropped out. 

"You look like the physical embodiment of 'pacing a hole into the floor'." the silence was now broken, deep green eyes floating over the built up crowd before going back to Cole. 

Who just wiped a hand down his face, "What're you doing here?" A solid place to start. 

"I followed you." It was said plainly, so easily. It was obvious, but Cole didn't want to believe he'd been caught out. 

"And here I was thinking I was getting good at sneaking out." Cole sighed, shoving his hands into his pocket. Though a small smile sprung up in the corner of his mouth, blatant sarcasm never failed to lighten the mood. "It's past your bedtime, squirt,"

"Past yours too, old-timer."

There was a brief pause, before the both of them let out a laugh. It wasn't forced, it came out easily, even around the clogging sensation he could feel in his throat. So he was still nervous. 

Cole sighed and leant against the mirror. Lloyd had seen him, so what? It wasn't as if he could take it back or delete it from anyone's memory, what happened had happened, and that was that. 

Lloyd knew, and that was that. 

"So," He started slowly, elbowing the younger ninja's arm just a little harder than necessary, then shot him a grin as compensation. "You thought I was good?" 

Lloyd nodded for a moment, before he seemed to realise he wasn't actually saying anything, just letting his body speak for the thoughts that seemed to be going through his head. "Yeah. Just… Yeah," He grinned, "I have to be honest, I didn't realise it was you at first."

Small victories. 

"I followed you in here and then I sort of, you know," He waves his hands around for a second, as if gesturing to everything, "Got sidetracked. I was watching people dance and I realised I had no idea where you'd gotten to, and I looked a little but I couldn't find you, so I just, you know?" 

"Went back to watching?" Cole finished, tilting his head. "This place draws you in, doesn't it?" 

There was a quiet him of acknowledgement, barely audible over the music. Then, "It drew you in, didn't it?" It sounded like a statement as much as a question. 

Cole just nodded. 

Lloyd took a moment, shifting onto his toes as if he could see the current dancers better from where he was, even though he was clear on the other side of the room and he wasn't the tallest anyway. Though he seemed to find a point where he could see, because he stopped shifting about and held his position for a good minute before actually moving again.

Cole took the break to gather his thoughts. Lloyd knew everything; he was here, he was enjoying himself but that also meant there were currently two vacant beds back at the monastery. Something which greatly increased the chance that their absence would be noticed by a tenfold. That was if someone decided to do a random room inspection in the dead of night. Weirder things had happened. Was it worth risking it, or should he be dragging Lloyd out at that moment so they could start the walk back home? 

He must have been staring, because the next moment Lloyd was just in front of him, holding something in his hands and turning it over slowly.

"I didn't recognise you until around half way into the song. The mask threw me off to be honest, and the paint." He made a loose gesture to the neon glow that he was still emitting. The lines were crisp, bright, though some areas of the paint had cracked with movement. 

Then Cole realised that the thing that Lloyd was holding was his mask. The conniving colour coded nightmare must have snagged it off his belt.

Yet, he just watched, and made no immediate move to take it back. It wasn't like he was worried Lloyd would break it, it wasn't like he'd not dropped it or sat on it himself in the past couple weeks. Lloyd had seen him dance, what was one mask in comparison to that? 

Then he paused, the mask face up. 

"Is this design based on--?" 

"Yeah. It is." Cole confirmed. Now, he reached over and took it into his hands. Lloyd didn't seem put about by it, even with all the negative connotations around the look. Deep orange, sharp grey and white marks framing the eyes, teeth painted abstractly with the same orange neon paint that Cole had marked on his chin to complete the look. It was illuminated, eye catching, and worked as a way to draw attention from the person that was beneath it. 

Apparently, it seemed to do its job. 

"Why'd you pick that? Why not something else, like a dragon, or a serpentine?" The question wasn't accusatory, just full of curiosity. Lloyd was digging for details, reasoning, an explanation even. 

"It's a funny story, actually." Cole turned the mask over in his hands, tugging at the elastic strap on the back. Honestly, the thing was overall impractical. It was tight and always left a ridge on his nose where it rested, the elastic made his hair stick up on end. But it served a purpose, it separated him from the guy that walked into the middle of the floor. It hid his face so the only thing people would know about him was his ability to dance, not that he was the Elemental Master of Earth or one of the ninja that had saved Ninjago multiple times over, or the son of a Royal Blacksmith. 

He was just someone who could dance.

It was also a slight joke. An internal and personal way of handling a traumatic event. 

He'd fallen from the Bounty, somehow survived and avoided being affected by the darkness that had descended, he'd made it back to the monastery in time for the final fight and eventual victory. Then he relieved that fear and horror, the sensation of falling with no one there to catch him but the earth that was racing up towards nearly every night when he closed his eyes. 

The Oni Mask of Deception, created in the visage of an Oni. The same Oni species that hadn't been able to take Cole's life even when he'd been so close to death. The Oni who had been prevented from taking over Ninjago by a combined family that stood against them and didn't give up against all odds. 

He'd suffered from nightmares for so long. But now, he wore the mask and had fun. He wore it because in doing so, it was proof he survived and he was still going. 

"I deceived death." Cole gave a quiet laugh after a second. Lloyd just watched. "When everyone thought I was gone, I came back. And me being here," He gestured to the crowd, to the speakers and the now pulsing music that he had to raise his voice slightly to talk over, even on the quieter side of the room, "It's like a 'screw you'. I'm having fun and here I can just be me. I can stop worrying and stop thinking and just _feel_." He grinned, probably the widest and most honest one he'd done so in a while. 

It was freeing, dance was freeing. 

"I can dance, and I can do it without caring what anyone thinks of me." Cole concluded slowly, his eyes watching Lloyd, expression relaxed and gentle. "I get to be both myself, and someone entirely new."

"Do you think you can't be yourself and a dancer?" 

He paused, his brow furrowed lightly. "It's not that, it's just, it makes it all easier, hiding behind a mask. You nearly didn't recognise me."

That made the younger ninja duck his head, letting out a slight laugh, "Yeah, I should have recognised the worn shoes and bad fashion sense."

Cole gaped. 

"Bad--? I swear, training tomorrow--" 

"You mean later today?" 

"Whatever. I'm going to kick your ass."

"Cole!" Cole's attention shot up in an instant, away from any murderous intent he had towards Lloyd and shifted over to the walking neon collage heading towards them. 

"Chamille?" Lloyd questioned after a second of staring, his eyes squinted as if it had taken a second for him to place her. 

She simply made her way forwards, shot Lloyd a quick and wide smile, along with a wave. "Hey, look at you! You've grown."

"Uh…"

"Anyway, I'm here to borrow Cole." She took his wrist and started pulling lightly. "You don't mind, right? He'll be gone four minutes tops."

Lloyd took a moment before he leant back against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't mind." It was clear he was enjoying what was happening far too much, and Cole noticed the second he clocked his expression, because a smirk soon settled on Lloyd's mouth. "Dancing?" 

"Yep." Chamille popped the P and pulled harder until Cole finally gave and took a step. 

"Don't I get a say in this?" He questioned. 

The simultaneous "No." from both parties made him do a double take, then just sigh. Lloyd and Chamille shared a look; they were clearly on the same page. One that benefited the both of them and not the earth ninja stuck in the middle of their escapade. Sometimes it was just like babysitting, especially when he seemed to be stuck with the position of 'dad friend' in the group. It didn't help that Lloyd acted serious, but when push came to shove he was as immature as Kai on a good day. 

"Dance competition, Cole." She said, as if that was all the reasoning she needed to get him moving faster, "Tyler says winners get bragging rights and free drinks."

"Free drinks?"

"Lloyd," Cole rolled his eyes, "You're underage."

"Dancing, bragging rights! Come on," Chamille pulled harder, before Cole eventually gave up and followed along behind her towards the centre of the floor. 

He could hear Lloyd's laugh behind him, along with a shouted, "I'll find you afterwards!" 

Cole just rolled his eyes, and followed Chamille through the crowd, pulling his mask on as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly done!


	9. Chapter 09 - You Seem Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having someone be aware of a secret isn’t always a bad thing. It can sometimes be a relief even, the knowledge that someone else knows. That you’re not on your own anymore. That there’s someone to talk to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has art to go with it on my Tumblr!

The walk back to the Monastery was pleasant that morning, even though they were a little later getting away from the studio than Cole would have personally liked. A full conversation with Chamille when the studio announced it was time to clear out for closing about actually organising a day to meet up with the other elemental masters; because there really didn't need to be a world ending disaster as an excuse to be in the same place at once. Then Lloyd and her had gotten to talking whilst Cole had excused himself to clean off in the bathroom; well that resulted in them leaving as the sun was cresting over the horizon line, more than an hour behind when he usually left. 

Lloyd could really talk sometimes. 

Yet it had been a relaxed silence since they'd set off. Cole was in a clean set of clothes, with a hoodie over the top to keep the morning chill away. The grass that sprung up at the side of the path was dusted with a light frost and a thin mist hung low over the lands. 

He took in a deep breath, enjoying the cool sensation that was brought with it. 

Then Lloyd turned to him, poised as if he was about to break the silence that had settled, which he promptly did, "So, that was fun." He grinned, shoving his hands into his pockets which didn't hinder the bounce in his step. "I mean, dancing is one thing, but you and Chamille not even having a plan?"

"Free-styling." Cole provided casually. 

"Free-styling. And a random song too, it was brutal giving you opera music, I mean, how do you even dance to that? Then you and Chamille were just like," Lloyd made a half-attempt at doing the robot, with an elaborated, "Woosh!" 

"And then, then Chamille was all like," An arm wave, a pretty good one if Cole's eyebrows shooting up was anything to go by. Though he just carried on watching the scene with a small smile, and the fact that Lloyd was basically dancing down the single dirt road that led back to the Monastery. It was a long trip, but he had a feeling it would go fast. 

"And then you were--" 

"Lloyd," Cole interrupted quickly, placing a hand onto his shoulder, "You haven't slept all night, you're getting your second wind. Take a breath."

Lloyd paused and did as he was told, though he was still smiling far too much for that hour of the morning. 

"You were so cool!" 

He'd said that multiple times already, and Cole was starting to believe it. 

"You can't tell anyone." He added after a short second and maybe half a block down the path. 

Lloyd kicked a pebble in his way, before nodding his understanding. He brushed some hair back from his face, "I know, I know. You said so earlier."

Even then, with that vein of conversation at a resolute end, Lloyd still looked like he had something to say. Cole tilted his head, "What?" 

"I'm not shocked you got into Marty's."

That was a bit off track, Cole rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. 

"Yeah, well--" 

"You've been sneaking out for a while, haven't you?" 

There it was, the supposed crux of the conversation. Abrupt, but sort of expected if he was being honest. If he took into account the clear worry that everyone had expressed, it was obvious that this talk was going to turn into an insightful one-to-one. 

There wasn't much point in lying anymore, so Cole simply nodded, "a couple months."

He didn't miss Lloyd's wince, "Have you even been sleeping?" 

"Big talk coming from the guy who knows I've been sneaking out, staying up and spying?" 

Lloyd's eyes widened, then he schooled his expression and fixed his gaze on the path ahead. They'd get to a woodland soon, and then the base of a far too long staircase, then home. 

"Don't try and change the subject, Cole."

There was a nervous laugh, and he was more than content to let everything go back to silence again. Just the sound of crunching gravel beneath their feet and the intermittent noise of bones popping as Cole went through his joints to help release any pressure, but eventually the evasion tactic wore out, and he relented. "It started because I wasn't sleeping." He explained losely, "Or like, when I went to sleep all I had was nightmares." 

There, he'd said it. 

Lloyd seemed to falter in his walk, almost drawing to a full stop as he watched and listened with far too much maturity for someone his age, and too much focus for someone who was wide awake at near six in the morning. 

He was going to crash so hard around lunch time, Cole could tell a mile off. 

Yet this time, the silence was a physical feeling. Cole had finished making his point, it wasn't in depth, but it was there. Yet Lloyd's staring just brought more words to the surface, "Of, you know, when I fell from the Bounty."

There's a pregnant pause, and Cole cleared a lump from his throat. 

"It's all I could think about and I would just wake up panicking--" 

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Lloyd questioned, with concern lacing his voice. 

Cole just brushed it off, but the worry was warranted. If it was anyone of his family in the same situation he was in, he'd be worried for them too. Maybe that was a testament to what they were actually feeling in that moment. He would feel hurt if someone kept something like this from him, since Cole knew he could help in some way. "A walk fixed it, I didn't want to annoy anyone."

"Cole, it's not annoying if you need help. We're all here to help you with whatever problems you have. That's what family's for." 

Cole shrugged, smiled, then focused his attention on some of the neon orange paint stuck under his nails. He picked at that, stared at it.

"I know that." he whispered. Of course he knew that, he knew that he could have turned to anyone and asked for help, or just someone to talk to and have them listen. Even Jay would have taken the situation seriously, he wasn't always so immature. Cole had to give him some credit. "I just… Found something that made me forget about my problems. At Nightowls, I have, like, a life." He paused, considering how that sounded, "Not that I don't have one at the Monastery, with you guys, but--" 

"It's something normal." Lloyd said. Hit the nail on the head. 

_Yes._

Cole laughed, and nodded, "Yeah. I've never had that. My dad's a famous singer, I was expected to follow in his footsteps in some way, I went to Marty's and then I ran away, then I became a Ninja." his life, summed up. In a way, everyone's lives paralleled that in some way. Particularly the one he was talking to in that moment.

Feeling as though they had to follow in their father's footsteps only to realise that they had their own lives to live, even if it was vastly different from what had been envisioned for them. 

"You were really good, though."

Cole laughs. 

"You were, though. You seemed so… Relaxed."

Cole draped one arm over Lloyd's shoulder and pulled him into a sideways hug, which dissolved into him ruffling the younger ninja's hair to within an inch of its life. "Do I not normally look relaxed?" 

"No," Lloyd managed out in the midst of batting at Cole's hand and arm until he was released, at which point he moved over to the safety of the other side of the path. Not that Cole couldn't reach him from where he was situated, "recently you've looked tired." He sighed, then his voice dipped in volume, and he just sounded that bit more worried, "We've all noticed, you know? We knew something was bothering you." Lloyd admitted slowly, then "We just… Wanted to wait for you to bring it up."

At that point, Cole realised that him bringing the issue up would have probably never happened by his own choice. He'd planned to, that first night. Then he just hadn't. 

They eventually made it into the woodland, sunlight moving through the gaps in the canopy crafted by crown shyness, leaves dusting the road. 

"How're the nightmares now?" Lloyd's voice was loud amongst silence. 

Cole ran a hand through his hair, "Honestly, better." He admitted, then paused, "Actually, I haven't had one recently, I didn't realise that."

Lloyd smiled, "Because you've been distracted by sneaking away and having fun."

"I mean, yeah, technically I have." He smiled, "I've been spending days training and nights dancing, truly I am living a double life." 

They both shared a laugh. 

"I mean, you're basically a dance vigilante with that mask."

Cole gave Lloyd a deadpan expression, "Never say those words together again."

Lloyd smirked, "Ninja by day," 

"Lloyd--" 

"Dancer by night."

"I swear to the First--" 

Lloyd quickly moved forwards and plucked Cole's mask from his belt, then pulled it on himself. There was a bit of adjusting, and the elastic was a little too large, but he got it comfortably sat on his nose at least. 

In the light of day, it was a funny sight. Lloyd, entirely dressed in green with a bright orange mask on that was definitely not as impressive as it was in the dark. 

"This is uncomfortable." He said after a moment. 

Cole just nodded, "It hurts the ears."

Lloyd took it off and stared at it, "It hurts the nose too. I don't know how you wear this and dance, you could have put some cushioning in it."

"I don't notice it when I'm dancing."

"A dragon would have been cooler, and it would have made sense."

Cole took the mask out of Lloyd's hands and held it to his chest, "Wow, I know when my talents aren't appreciated." He smirked, "Besides, it's sort of a joke. Deception, no one knows who I am underneath--" 

"And no one knows what you do when you sneak out."

He just blanked that quip, "And wearing the face of a species that was nearly responsible for my death is sorta cathartic. I wear it and I have fun."

"You looked like you were loving it."

Cole grinned, "Yeah. I never thought I'd dance again, to be honest. Not like that."

They finally reached the stairs up to the Monastery and the sun was a lot higher than he would have liked. If it was early, they could sneak in and everyone would be none the wiser. Any time after six was when their absence would be noticed. 

So reaching the top of the stairs would end in an interrogation and questioning, most likely. Cole hoped not. 

Lloyd started on the stairs first, but as far as Cole was concerned they were always the worst part of the night. It was easier to go down them.

"So, planning on sneaking out again tonight?" the younger ninja asked as they began the climb. 

"I don't know, maybe?" He'd probably give it a rest for a day or so. His sleep was nowhere close to being fixed, but he knew that if he managed to stay awake for the rest of the day, there was no way he could pull another all-nighter. He did it once, and regretted his decision immensely. 

Also, he knew what Lloyd was actually asking about, "To be honest, I'll probably sleep tonight and go tomorrow. Why, you want to tag along again?" 

The silence that followed was an answer in itself, and Cole just laughed, "You're sleeping tonight too. If Sensei Wu doesn't have my neck for you being up most of the night, then I know Kai will."

"Why would they blame you?" 

"Because I'm the one in charge." Cole spread his heads as if it was obvious. 

"And it's not like they would know I've been awake all night."

"You're starting to look like you've been dragged through the Boiling Sea backwards and then faced off against Sensei Wu's chicken. You look tired."

"Touché."

As they neared the top of the stairs, Cole began fiddling with the mask of the strap. He had all his old clothes in a bag over his shoulder but it was already pretty full to begin with, and he didn't have the heart to try and push the mask in too. 

Which left him resorting to holding it subtly behind his back, using the bagginess of the back of his hoodie to shield it from view as they stepped through the gates and into the monastery. 

Into the middle of morning training. They were so going to get found out, Cole was so going to get busted for what he'd been doing. Lloyd was going to slip up, it was obvious. 

Even as Kai walked over, sword sheathed over his back and spiked hair drooping from exertion, his cut eyebrow was raised and his gaze far too analytical. 

He had been doing so well, too. He could already feel his heart rate picking up, but externally he forced himself to keep his cool, "Hey, sorry we’re late."

"You guys didn't even leave a note.” Was the immediate response, and it was tense, “It's one thing Cole not being here and not telling us, but both of you?" Kai questioned, and the speed of which his hands were moving was an indication of emotion that he was trying to keep in check. 

Cole winced lightly, "Yeah, sorry. I didn't think, my bad. We were just--" 

Lloyd quickly stepped forwards and gave a slight smile, which seemed to quickly sway Kai's mood in a second. Big brother instincts, they could dial back just as fast as they surfaced. 

"We just went on a walk, spoke a little." He looked back at Cole and grinned. "I should have written a note but I didn't. We sort of… Just needed to get out for a bit." 

He was covering, Cole realised. He'd probably been thinking of an excuse for the whole walk. Something he'd forgotten to even do. 

He had to force himself to not look impressed as the words rolled easily from Lloyd's lips. Even he believed them, and he knew the truth. 

Kai seemed to cool down, and looked at Cole, "Are you okay?"

He let out a breath, and nodded, "I am now. The walk was good. I'm all good."

"Good." Kai nodded, then added, "You know we're all here to talk to if you need it."

Cole just gave a light laugh and nodded, carefully keeping the mask situated behind his back, "Yeah. Yeah, I know. Thanks, you guys. That means a load."

He looked at Lloyd. 

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, Nightowls has reached it's end! Thank you so much for reading it and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing! Feel free to shoot me an ask or message on Tumblr @mcfanely and I'll gladly talk about anything!  
> Thank you, thank you!
> 
> Fane,

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, everything posted here is also posted on my Tumblr - @mcfanely  
> There's art there for this AU, and my ask box is always open for questions about it or anything else I've written!  
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Fane,


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